Looking into the past…

The ninja regretted having ever worked with the machine-beasts. In their previous war, he had been approached separately by each of the factions, each with offers of glory and wealth. Being cunning as he was, the ninja accepted the offers of both sides, spying for each, attempting to cause enough damage to wipe out their entire abominatious race. His plan nearly succeeded; the ninja’s information lead to both factions bringing devastating raids unto each other, until each faction was down to numbering its remaining troops with single digits. But all had not gone well…

The machine-beasts had grown wise to the ninja’s plan of extermination, and formed a truce with each other in order to retreat, rekindle their numbers, and create a plan with which to destroy the ninja. The old war now years gone, the machine-beasts returned united in order to destroy the one who had nearly eliminated them. After months of searching, a machine-beast flying recon unit spotted the ninja engaged in destroying a baggie of tortilla chips. Radioing this information back to headquarters, the flyer kept silent watch on the remainder of the ninja’s battle whilst the army rapidly traveled.

The whole of the machine-beast race arrived on scene as the ninja was in mortal combat with the true pirate leader. As the recon unit confirmed the ninja’s location, the heaviest of the machine beasts targeted for a bombardment. Their leaders knew that now, when the ninja was already exhausted from battle, was going to be their best chance at destroying him without losing more than half their race to the fight. While the ninja bowed towards his dying enemy, the leader of the machine-beasts gave the order to fire. The heat coming off the mortars of the heavy units caused the carpet underneath their feet to melt, a volley even more sizable than those that the ninja had engineered during his trickery in the first war. Those shellings killed hundreds of machine-beasts, and now a larger one yet was hurtling through the air, targeted solely at the ninja. Surely there would be no escape for the green-clad genocidal.

The adventure begins…

The tiny, green garbed ninja stood atop a tall stack of promotional post-it notes, watching across the desk for trouble. In his peripheral, fingers moving across a keyboard, up and down, quickly tapping out something, but this was not the ninja’s concern. Of greater consequence was the menacing bag of tortilla chips sitting on top of the desk calendar. The ninja knew what sorts of creatures used those chips as a hiding place: it had been only months since he’d been involved in an epic battle that saw three of his kin slaughtered amongst a foil cave of Doritos.

Leaping into the air, he landed upon the clear baggie with a quick flip. The ninja’s bow staff flew in quick diagonals, up and down, crushing the chips into a powder one by one. If his enemy truly resided in this place, they would soon be revealed.

Never tiring, the ninja took pause, staring knowingly at a large corn chip, curled upon itself. As he flew forward to turn it to dust, they emerged. Three gangly Tortilla Pirates emerged from the chip, swords drawn and pistols loaded.

The ninja darted left, then struck the ground hard with his right leg, propelling himself into the air, spinning quickly enough that the pirates single shots missed him. Bam! Pow! Bam!

The ninja landed, his short sword already emerging from the far side of the lead pirate’s neck.  Pivoting, his leg swept under the foot of the second pirate, knocking him so forcefully to the ground as to fracture his skull. The third pirate’s sword made contact with his own, his scowl and stench doing their best to intimidate the ninja.

This pirate must have been the ringer, the previously assumed head pirate’s garb a ruse intended to draw the ninja’s attention long enough for the true master to attack. Beginning to feel weak after deceptively short and intense minutes of battle, the ninja focused his mind, drawing up the strength that years of study had instilled. Throwing his sword so high that it passed the top of the computer, the ninja manually disarmed the pirate, knocking him onto his back with a forced open palm.

Looking up from his position laying on the desk, the pirate pulled a dagger from his boot, preparing for his next attack. But as the dagger emerged, the ninja bowed towards his enemy, and his sword returned from its trip into the air, coming to rest in the pirate’s neck.

With the immediate threat defeated, the exhausted ninja turned towards the sky and bowed. The ninja knew that his master had watched over his battle, and gave him honor. But as he was bowing, he heard an ominous and distant sound, one which he hadn’t heard in years. Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam!

The firing of large cannons in the distance signaled the presence of a more formidable enemy than the Tortilla Pirates. The machine-beasts must have returned, apparently ready to exact their revenge upon the ninja. Hand raised above his brow, searching for the direction of the shots, the ninja heard a more worrisome sound yet. A steadily growing, faint whistle was coming from the west. Taking a step back, the ninja looked skyward: shells were rapidly descending upon him.